dadyl | 𝙿𝙴𝙽𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝙸𝙽𝙱𝙾𝚇 ;

[ Daryl's not a hugger. Carol knows how lucky she is to be one of the few people he'll tolerate physical affection from, and she can count on one hand the number of times he's actually initiated it himself. So when he wraps his arms around her without a moment of hesitation, she nearly sobs with relief. She still remembers the look Negan had given her, when he'd witnessed the same memory in the haunted house over a year ago. Like he didn't even know who she was anymore. Like what she had done was too horrific even for him.

Consciously or not, she'd been terrified Daryl would react the same way. Seeing that same look on his face, like she'd crossed a line she couldn't take back...she couldn't have taken that kind of judgement from him. Not again. So when he holds her tight and says I know, it's like a weight's been lifted from her heart, as terrible as reliving that terrible day one more time is. Carol clings to him immediately, face pressed against his chest, her tears wetting his shirt. ]

I'm sorry.

[ She half-whispers it, muffled against his shirt. ]

I didn't know what else to do.

[ He's good at weathering a storm but this one is bad. He'd always wondered what she wasn't able to tell him, what she was keeping secret when they all came back together again on the road after Terminus. Whatever it was had almost drove her to leave them all behind and doubtlessly weighed on her for all the decisions she made afterwards and eventually he'd wondered less and less. They'd all left parts of themselves behind and he'd just hoped she could live with whatever she'd lost.

But now he knows, and all he can do is try to comfort her now like he wishes she'd let him do all along. ]

Sometimes... there's nothin' else to do.

[ His voice is very flat when he says it but he holds her tighter. He hadn't lived with those kids the way Michonne had - he'd always been on the road then, always looking for him, never stopping when he was nowhere to be found - but he still knows. He's never put that day down. Not completely.

He'll wear that scar forever, just like Michonne. Just like Carol. ]

There just isn't.

[ Carol sniffles, squeezing her eyes shut. A part of her wonders why she hadn't said something sooner. She'd thought about it. Wanted to, more than once. Not just here, but back home. She'd felt so alone sometimes, remembering that awful day, especially once Tyreese had died too and she'd been the only one left alive who remembered what had happened, what she'd had to do to save Judith's life. To save all of their lives.

But she knows why she'd kept it to herself. Some things are just too awful to talk about. Even to your best friend. ]

I thought you'd hate me.

[ Because how could she ever explain? How could anyone else possibly understand? She'd killed a child. Someone who'd loved her like a mother, someone she'd practically seen as her own. She'd brought her outside and shot her in the back of the head. ]

[ It isn't the first time Carol has talked about hate when it comes to the two of them and it's never easy for Daryl to hear. He just shakes his head now, once and firmly, and his hold on her never loosens. His mouth is set and he swallows, pushing down the tears that threaten to rise up and join hers. What he hates is that she could think that. ]

How could I?

[ He doesn't know if Michonne would want him to tell Carol about that day. He doesn't know how he could find the words to do it, even now, and it's clear how Carol could never find her own words to talk about what he'd just seen. Only Hell could rip that curtain back in the same violent way that it does so much. ]

You ain't the only one who's had to.

[ But Michonne hadn't been the only one who'd had to act that day, either. He was Judith's caretaker, too. And he'd known what was on the line. But even now, his voice sounds dead with the memory. ]

[ She doesn't answer that. Maybe he couldn't, not for this. Carol knows she's let him down before. The way he'd begged her to talk to him and let him help her, not to let her need for vengeance on Alpha carry her away. The way she hadn't listened, even then, and nearly gotten herself and then Connie killed as a result. Her lowest point, and he'd stuck by her side. They'd gotten through it.

So how could he hate her for this, if he couldn't even hate her for that? But she'd been scared, all the same. She couldn't risk the possibility that he'd look at her differently afterwards, or not be able to look at her at all.

Daryl gets it, though. He accepts it. She winds her arms around his waist, giving him a wordless squeeze of gratitude, her tears finally starting to subside as she pulls her head back to look up at him. You ain't the only one who's had to. Daryl isn't big on drama for its own sake, and that combined with the crypticness of the message has her blood running cold. ]

What do you mean?

[ She speaks quietly. He doesn't have to say - he knows she won't push. But he'd seen her in her darkest hour and hadn't judged her for it. The least she can do is give him the same opportunity in return. ]

[ He feels Carol's arms go around his waist and he doesn't tense, not quite, but the length of the hug is practically a record for Daryl and after what he's just said, what he's just admitted to, discomfort suddenly ripples through him at their closeness. It's a lot all at once and he can't clarify his vagueness, even though he knows he has to. He has to, after saying something like that during a moment like this.

So he leans back, slowly and gently, trying to detangle himself from her just a little, as though he needs the breathing room. He can't look at her for the moment, he doesn't want to remember that day and know just how similar Carol must have felt outside that tiny little house in the clearing he'd just seen. How much worse it must have been for her. ]

That year, after Rick. None of us were lucky.

[ But that doesn't tell her a thing. He shakes his head, then moves his arms from around her shoulders so he can squeeze either side of her upper arms, hold her straight in front of him like that. Like that would make telling the story easier. ]

Michonne let a friend into Alexandria. A friend from before. [ It should have been light and hopeful, what he's saying. But it sounds anything but. ] She shouldn't have.

She took Judith. She'd taken plenty more before that.

[ So many people misunderstand Daryl, or take one look at him and think they know exactly who he is, while getting it all wrong. The truth is that Daryl's really not that hard to read. Not if you pay attention. He never has been for Carol, at least.

He says it all just in the subtle shift in his body language when she puts her arms around his waist, and she pulls back immediately, giving him the space he needs. Every offered touch from Daryl is a gift, but he's like a cat in that way. It has to be on his terms, and when he's done he's done.

So she doesn't take offense. Just accepts it for what it is, and waits, patient and quiet while he looks away and then gathers his courage and meets her eyes again. It's not a happy story, but when is it ever? Carol nods in understanding as he speaks, trying to breathe past the knot of anxiety in her stomach. But when he mentions Judith, her eyes go wide. Judith's still alive and well, so there's that, at least. Whatever had gone down, it hadn't been the utter tragedy it might have been. But - ]

What happened?

𝙿𝙴𝙽𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝙸𝙽𝙱𝙾𝚇 ;

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